Approaching the kitchen door he rapped loudly upon it. Twice had he repeated the summons before a window was raised, and some one looking out upon him called, "Who's there? Is that you, Peter?"
"No, it's not Peter. It's Tom Coward, and I want to get in. I've got something to tell you."
"I'll be down in a moment," said Peter's mother, for Tom had recognized the voice as her's.
Tom soon heard the heavy bars withdrawn, and in a brief time the door was opened, and then closed and carefully barred behind him.
"What's wrong, Tom?" inquired the woman anxiously. "Has anything happened to Peter?"
"I don't think so," replied Tom. "He was all right when I left him a few hours ago down by the Hook. But what I want to know now is whether you've had any word from his father?"
"Not a word, except that it's reported the army's on the march again. Why do you ask?"
"I don't know that I ought to tell you," replied Tom hesitatingly, "but the truth of the matter is that I happened to hear that he was coming home."
"You've heard something more than that, Tom Coward," said the woman now thoroughly alarmed. "I know you've heard more, or you wouldn't have come over here at this time of night and in such a storm. What is it? What is it?"
Tom perceived that he had gone too far to retreat now, and so he began his story. He did not go into all the details, for as yet he did not desire to implicate Benzeor, at least in the eyes of all his neighbors.